


The Icy Snitch

by SteamVyrus (ViktorVyrus)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-09
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-25 00:52:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17714936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViktorVyrus/pseuds/SteamVyrus
Summary: Harry Potter, also known as The-Boy-Who-Just-Wants-A-Normal-Life, has begun to think the universe has a vendetta against him. Thrust into the Triwizard Tournament against his will, his life already seemed to be going rapidly downhill. But as he begins to develop strange and new feelings towards a certain famous Quidditch player, he is forced to enter unchartered territory yet again. With previous friendships being torn apart, and new ones rising up, will Harry be able to cope with the pressures of the Tournament?--Edit: This story is no longer being updated (at least for now). I was too busy studying for my GCSEs and in the process lost both my inspiration and plans (oops) for the story. I may update it again in the future, but I'm going to move on to another project for now. Sorry to everyone!--





	1. The Goblet of Fire

Harry wasn't hungry.  
Of course, this was something he was used to; years of living with the Dursleys had meant that he had become adept at ignoring his hunger, but at Hogwarts this was rare. The real reason for his lack of hunger was due to the fact that since term started, they had already had two feasts rather than the usual light dinner. While this shouldn't have been suppressing his appetite, it had certainly done so by now; besides, he had tried all of the European food that the Triwizard Tournament had brought along. There was also the fact that tonight was the night that the Goblet of Fire would be choosing the three champions, which was causing a great deal of excitement.

“Who d'you think the Hogwarts Champion will be?” Ron in-between mouthfuls of chicken.  
“Well, Angelina said she'd entered didn't she?” Harry replied. This was true, a few days ago she entered her name, as the Hogwarts Students were given a week extra to submit their names (though the goblet hadn't been revealed yet, so they had to wait to formally enter) so had a lot of people rooting for her.  
“Yeah, better her than Diggory.”

Harry frowned slightly. Cedric Diggory, while seemingly popular and vapid has always seemed a decent guy to Harry, as he had always tried to be nice to everyone but what stuck out most was in Harry's third year when he tried to call a rematch after the Dementors. Harry shuddered just thinking about it, that match was one of the worst of his time as Seeker. Losing the match was bad enough but he had to make a fool of himself in front of the whole school.

Noticing Harry had fallen silent, Ron took the opportunity to stuff his mouth almost to breaking point, barely able to contain all of the food.  
“Ron, that really is disgusting,” Hermione said, looking up from a heavy leather-bound book.  
“Ichs nyot dishgushting Herioyee!” Ron said, his mouth crammed to the point where he could barely talk.  
Hermione threw a look at him that quite plainly said Ron was being disgusting and resumed reading.

Bad table manners aside, Ron was very excited to see the Tournament take place, as Fred and George had spent the past week entertaining Harry, Hermione, and Ron with stories they'd found in a book from the library about it. Harry didn't quite feel the same; possibly witnessing someone die wasn't really his cup of tea, however, he did feel at least some excitement about it as well. Who didn't?

“”I’m not trying to be a pessimist, but what if someone- What if somebody dies in the Tournament?” Harry asked nervously.  
Hermione gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m sure it’ll all be fine, Dumbledore isn’t ltting anyone under age enter.”  
“But still… I don’t want to see uh… That.” He finished lamely.  
“It won’t, I promise. Everyone’ll be fine with Dumbledore and everyone else watching over.”  
Not entirely reassured, but determined to cheer up, Harry changed the subject.  
“So uh… Are you going to tell us what you’re reading?”  
“It’s a book on the Tournament actually, I’m reading about what happened to past-winners. It’s really interesting, one was even the Minister for Magic! And-” She began.  
“Hermione, shut up will you?” Ron said.  
“Ron! That was incredibly rude!” Hermione retorted.  
“Well, you always…” Harry stopped listening, far too used to Hermione and Ron arguing over nothing all of the time, and didn’t particularly want to end up taking sides. While Ron was his best mate, he wouldn’t take too well to Harry taking Hermione’s side as he so often did in his head.

Looking around the Great Hall, Harry saw that a lot of people had abandoned their meals, and kept eagerly looking over to see if Dumbledore had finished eating.  
On the Ravenclaw table this wasn't happening so much, however, this may have been due to the girl from Beuxbatons Ron had become convinced was a Veela. This seemed to be a shared feeling across the school, as a number of the boys, including at least half of the Ravenclaw boys, were gazing at her, some were even dribbling, mouths left dumbly open as if trying to catch flies.  
Harry felt no attraction to the mysterious girl, however, he wasn't exactly hasty to share this as Ron seemed entranced by her and was prone to getting angry at any criticism of her. As if to illustrate this, Ron had begun to stare in her direction.

Harry sighed and looked away, to the Slytherin table. The Durmstrang students had taken to sitting with the Slytherin students, Viktor Krum included much to Ron's disappointment. Unsurprisingly, Harry had barely seen Krum at all, or any of the Durmstrang students through this, he suspected, was because Krum didn't want to be harassed by fans, and the other students didn't seem to like most of the Hogwarts students.

Noticing some of the Slytherins pointing at him and snickering, Harry looked away promptly, just in time as Dumbledore had stood up. Silence fell almost instantly, with everyone's eyes on the Goblet of Fire or Dumbledore, who swiftly waved his hands around the room, extinguishing all lights but the pumpkins, casting an eerie red glow in the hall.  
“I trust that you have all enjoyed yourself thus far. I estimate that the Goblet requires two more minutes before deciding on the champions.” Dumbledore said.

Everyone remained quiet, their gaze fixed on the Goblet. It felt like the longest two minutes of Harry's life, though he didn't know why as he wasn't exactly anticipating anything special to happen; the Tournament, while exciting, wasn't as important as Harry's grades for example.

Suddenly, the flames turned scarlet, reminding Harry inexplicably of Fawkes the Pheonix. A long tendril of red shot out and a scrap of parchment paper burnt around the edges drifted down from the tip into Dumbledore's outstretched hand.  
“The Durmstrang champion will be… Viktor Krum!” He dramatically called out. A loud cheer and burst of applause broke out, as Krum fought his way past the Slytherin students and up to the front of the Great Hall, his face lit up with a smile, however only Harry noticed how forced it was.  
Dumbledore directed Krum to the door off to a side room Harry had never entered, and mere seconds later another tendril of flame burst out like a volcano erupting, and an elaborately folded paper crane fluttered down, unfolding the charred parchment as it went.

As Dumbledore caught it, the parchment began to crumble to ash, but not before he managed to read it.  
“And the champion for Beuxbatons will be Fleur Delacour.”  
The mystery girl from earlier stood up and gracefully made her way to the door.

“Harry - It's that Veela girl!” Ron hissed excitedly.  
Harry paid no attention to this, noticing that several of the Beuxbatons students were frowning unpleasantly, and some were even sobbing. He only felt a little sorry for them, as they were overreacting a little. He distinctly heard Hermione scoff, and could practically feel her rolling her eyes at the Beuxbatons students.

Again, the fire began to brightly glow and out shot the final piece of parchment which fell down, caught by Dumbledore. Everyone fell silent again, several were quite literally on the edge of their seats.  
“And the Hogwarts Champion is… Cedric Diggory!”  
The cheers and shouts were deafening, but none more so than the Hufflepuffs who were so often starved of any kind of glory, and Diggory had always been the one to give them what little they got. Ron nudged Harry quite hard, but Hermione shushed him as Cedric Diggory walked through the door, a difficult feat when much of the Hufflepuff table was attempting to swarm him and prevent him from leaving, the remnants of the sudden cheer slowly died down.

“Now, I'm sure you are all waiting to-” Dumbledore began, cut off by the Goblet suddenly glowing again, throwing out another parchment scrap. All eyes were fixed on Dumbledore, his expression unreadable as he caught the parchment.

“Harry Potter.” He murmured quietly, and several heads turned to Harry.  
“Harry Potter, up here if you please,” Dumbledore said finally, his tone a mixture of anger, confusion and oddly enough, worry.  
Both Hermione and Ron were staring incredulously at him.

“I didn't- You know I didn't do it!” Harry began in a hushed tone, but Hermione cut him off.  
“Go, quick!” She said firmly, pushing Harry up off the bench.  
He began the long walk up to the to the front of the Great hall, his gaze fixed straight ahead to avoid the stares of other students. Snape sneered at him unpleasantly as he passed by the Teacher's table, and Hagrid looked gobsmacked, making Harry's stomach begin to twist uncomfortably.

Dumbledore simply gestured to the door, and Harry quickly walked inside, trying not to stumble on his robes, and quietly closed the door behind him.


	2. The Side Room

Harry stared at the three Champions at the other end of the room, who hadn’t noticed him enter yet. Cedric Diggory was standing near a fireplace with ornate stone carvings, examining what Harry thought was a trophy. Viktor Krum was in the corner, not paying too much attention to those around him, though he did briefly glance over at Harry. Of course, Harry had to be forced into this and ruin the Tournament, and nobody would believe that he hadn’t entered himself. At least he’d have Ron and Hermione though, they just had to believe him. His thoughts were rudely interrupted by the French girl from earlier.

“What is it? Do zey want us back in ze Hall?” She asked

They obviously thought he had come to deliver a message. He didn’t respond, just stared blankly at her. Of course, they would be outraged when they found out why he was actually here. The girl, who Harry remembered was called Fleur Delacour, narrowed her eyes and made a disapproving sniff at Harry.  
Suddenly the door opened behind Harry, and he stumbled sideways to get out of the way. Dumbledore, Ludo Bagman, Professor McGonagall, and Snape all hurried inside. McGonagall gave a sympathetic nod as he stumbled back from them, though her face didn’t share this gesture, as she looked at best, irritable and at worst downright angry.

“Ladies and gentlemen, incredible as it may seem, it seems we have a fourth Triwizard Champion! This is Harry Potter.” Ludo Bagman said enthusiastically and making an attempt to sympathetically pat his shoulder, though didn’t notice Harry shuffling away.

Fleur’s face quickly turned sour, and though he tried to hide it, Cedric seemed at the very least suspicious. Viktor Krum made no discernible reaction, though he at least seemed to be adept at holding a straight face - or in his case, a grumpy one.  
“Surely this is a joke Meester Bagman? ‘E is too young!” Fleur said, attempting a smile that looked more like a sneer.  
“No, no. His name just came out of the Goblet of Fire, like your own.”  
“No, c’est impossible!” She retorted.

“Well, how do you explain that I’m here? Because the stupid thing did spit my name out! Are you really as stupid as to not listen to a Ministry official?” Harry said back in an angry voice.  
Cedric widened his eyes at this, clearly surprised at Harry’s outburst. McGonagall put her hand on his shoulder, but Harry shook it off.

Madame Maxime and Karkaroff entered suddenly, followed by Mr Crouch which cut off any response from them. Upon seeing her headmistress enter, Fleur made her anger known.  
“Madame Maxime! Zey are saying zat this leetle boy is to compete also!” She said loudly.

Harry felt his face grow hot with anger; little boy? He had probably dealt with more than she had in her entire life!

Madame Maxime was similarly angry, but not for the same reasons. It was an intimidating sight, as her head was just shy of hitting the elaborate chandelier on the ceiling, she towered over everyone in the room with an almost murderous expression on her face.  
“Yes, what is ze meaning of zis , Dumbly-dorr?” She commanded.

“I would like to know the meaning of this too, Dumbledore, I do not remember the rules stating that the host school was permitted two champions,” Professor Karkaroff began with a sneer, “Or have I not read the rules carefully enough?”  
He chuckled nastily.

“Indeed, ‘Ohwarts cannot have two champions! It would be most unfair to our own champions!”  
“You told us that your age-line would prevent this from happening! Or do I sense blatant favouritism towards Hogwarts?” Karkaroff barked, eyeing the two Ministry officials warily.  
“Do you honestly think I would enter myself? I don’t want to die over some stupid Tournament!” Harry shouted.  
“It is not Dumbledore’s fault, Karkaroff, merely the latest entry in Potter’s series of disobeying rules. Potter has been crossing lines since his first year.” Professor Snape said maliciously.  
“That will do Severus,” Dumbledore began, then turned to Harry. “Did you submit your name to the Goblet of Fire?”  
“No! Of course not!”  
“Did you ask an older student to do it for you?”  
“I told you, no!” Harry shouted adamantly.

This seemed to be good enough for Dumbledore, but Fleur, in particular, didn’t look reassured.  
“Of course ‘e is lying! We ‘ave been hoping and waiting for the chance to compete! ‘E would do the same. I am sure!”.

This time, it was not Harry, but Viktor Krum who argued against her.  
“And tell me, vhy vould he enter? He has said that zis tournament is too dangerous and that he does not vish to die!”

Everyone was momentarily stunned; since everyone entered the room, there hadn’t been a single word from him, but now, Viktor had decided against brooding in the corner and had just shouted at a fellow champion. Karkaroff looked bewildered, as he had expected his favoured student to express similar displeasure to himself. Obviously, he was mistaken.

“Eet is evident that Dumbly-dorr made a mistake.” Said Madame Maxime.

Harry was infuriated by now, but after Dumbledore gave him a look that quite plainly said ‘Be quiet, I can handle this alone’, he managed to restrain himself from shouting.

“It is possible, of course, that I have made a mistake with the age-line.” Dumbledore said calmly, though his face said otherwise.  
“Dumbledore you know full well that you didn’t make a mistake,” Professor McGonagall began coldly, “Dumbledore believes Harry did not enter himself into the Tournament, and that should be good enough for you.”

Karkaroff shot a dirty look at McGonagall, but swiftly turned around, as the door had just opened again. Perfect, another person to mock him, Harry thought. Just what he needed.  
Only in stepped Professor Moody, and his eerie appearance was enough to make everyone in the room stop talking immediately.

“Aah, of course. Professor Moody.” Karkaroff spat.  
“You’d do well to shut up,” Moody barked, “It’s obvious Potter did not enter himself. It would take an immense amount of magical power to trick the Goblet of Fire. Someone is clearly doing this on purpose.”  
“Yes, but as we all know, Mad-Eye is known for his outlandish theories. Last I heard you smashed a cuckoo-clock because you thought it was a cleverly disguised Basilisk egg.” Karkaroff said in a condescending tone.  
The room fell silent yet again.  
“You be quiet. It’s my job to think the way dark wizards do, as you’d do well to remember-” Moody was cut off.

“Alastor, that will do,” Dumbledore said, again with his infuriatingly calm voice. "Mr Crouch will take over from here, as he has thoroughly read the rules more times than we have most obviously.”

Mr Crouch stepped forwards in his midnight-black robes, the fire on the wall opposite him casting an eerie glow on his face, making him resemble a skeleton for a moment.  
“Mr Potter has no choice but to compete; the Goblet choosing a Champion constitutes a binding magical contract, meaning that there can be no backing out of the Tournament. Doing so will cause the individual to be driven to incurable insanity.”

“Zis is blatant favouritism! I insist zat we resubmit our students' names until anuzzer champion for each school has been chosen!” Madame Maxime said.  
“The rules are final. And the Goblet of Fire has gone out, there will be no submitting names until four years have passed.” Mr Crouch said calmly.  
“Now, I’m sure you all want to get off to bed, so I’ll fill you in on the first task,” Ludo Bagman said after a moment of silence. “The first task will take place on the Twenty-Fourth of November. It will test your daring and the ability to cope facing the unknown. That is all we can tell you.”

The three headmasters glanced at their students, Dumbledore more noticeably owing to the two champions.

Mr Crouch spoke now, “You are not to ask or accept help from any teachers, and you will only be permitted to take your wands. You will all also be exempted from all end of year tests and examinations, of course.”  
“I think that is all?” Dumbledore asked.  
“Yes, I think so. You may return to your dormitories.”

Harry stood there stunned, still trying to take everything in. Madame Maxime swiftly put her arm about Fleur and the two stormed out, speaking rapidly in French. Karkaroff tried to do the same, but Krum shook him off looking quite annoyed. As he walked past Harry, however, he stopped.

“I believe you.” He said firmly to Harry.  
“What?” Harry replied, confused.  
“I believe you did not cheat. You said zat you do not want to risk your life. I vould be a fool for not believing that, and even I feel nervous over it.”

Harry stared, momentarily stunned.  
“Thank you.” He managed to force out, his heart racing.

Viktor Krum was forced to leave by Karkaroff, who threw a dirty look at Harry as he left. Cedric Diggory followed shortly after, not giving Harry a single glance.  
Harry was left standing there for a few minutes. Why did Krum, of all people, believe him? His headmaster was adamant that Harry was a cheat, but Viktor Krum had defended him, shouting at Fleur earlier. At least he knew someone, other than Dumbledore and the other professors. There was also the matter of why he felt so strange when he told Harry that he believed him. He would think about that later.

"Harry, are you alright?" Professor McGonagall asked, looking sympathetically towards him.  
"I'm fine Professor."

Now, he would have to return to the Gryffindor common room and face the rest of his house. Hopefully, it would go better than the fiasco he just had to endure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second chapter, and on the same day!  
> A lot of this shares similar (or the same) dialogue as the original book so I could establish the beginning, and I couldn't really change this scene a whole lot without thinking it was a bit weird. but don't worry - I will be diverting from the book in the next chapter.


	3. Ronald Weasley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry returns to the common room, but the evening turned out much worse than anticipated.

Walking down the torch-lit corridors, Harry felt somewhat reassured at being able to sleep, this night had been stressful enough. Only four people seem to have actually believed his side of the story. But he had expected Dumbledore and McGonagall at the very least to believe him; they weren’t stupid enough to think he wanted to enter this life-or-death tournament, frankly, he’d had enough danger to last a lifetime. Moody believing him wasn’t too hard to believe either, as an Auror had to be fairly intelligent. Yet, Harry thought as he began to climb one of the many moving staircases, did someone really do this on purpose?   
He wouldn’t put it past Malfoy, but there was no way he could do it; as Moody said, it would take an immense amount of magical power, something that Harry was sure Malfoy didn’t have.

The staircase he was on suddenly decided to move, almost sending Harry flying over the side were he not holding onto the handrails. They were usually like this at night, as they didn’t have to worry about students getting injured, but now Harry had to take a detour to reach the common room. Waiting hours for the staircase to return to the original position was not an appealing idea. Sighing, he began to walk down the corridor he had arrived at.

It dawned on Harry that indeed there was someone who would enter Harry on purpose; Lord Voldemort. But surely that was impossible; despite having faced him twice now, Voldemort was supposed to be powerless, hiding in some gloomy forest with no chance of regaining power. Of course, that was what he believed in first year though. Second year probably doesn’t count seeing as it wasn’t actually Voldemort himself, just a diary with his memory trapped inside. But he couldn’t rule that out.

But most of all, Harry wondered why Viktor Krum, of all people, believed him. He had no reason to even care about Harry’s existence, especially after he had ruined their Tournament by being forced into it. Krum even seemed annoyed that he had to leave as if he wanted to speak more thoroughly with Harry. But maybe he imagined it. Krum was probably just smart enough to know that an underage wizard was hardly going to volunteer for something this dangerous. But in any case, there was no way Harry would ask this. Not when he barely knew anything about him.

The way back to the common room was surprisingly faster than it should have been, however, Harry suspected it was because he was so preoccupied trying to understand everything that had happened already that night. He scarcely noticed Peeves the Poltergeist following him around and trying to annoy him by doing impressions of him shouting at Fleur.

Once he reached the portrait, however, he was met by not just the Fat Lady, but several witches and wizards from other portraits, accompanied by a witch he had seen occasionally drop by in the Fat Lady’s portrait.

“Well, well well,” The Fat Lady began, “Violet’s told me everything. You’ve been chosen to compete in the Triwizard Tournament?”  
“Balderdash,” Harry mumbled dully, not wanting to have this conversation right now.  
“It most certainly isn’t!” the witch said angrily.  
“No, no, Vi, that’s the password.” The Fat Lady said soothingly, and at that swung open to allow him to enter.

 

Stumbling inside, Harry was momentarily startled by the raucous din that met him. Taking advantage of this, several people tugged him over, until he was surrounded by a great crowd which made up almost everyone in Gryffindor House. Perfect, just what I need, Harry thought bitterly.

“How’d you do it? You should’ve said you were entering!” Fred said loudly, his tone half excited and half annoyed.  
“Yeah, and how’d you do it without getting a beard?” George asked curiously.  
“No- You’ve got it all wrong! I didn't-” Harry began, only to be cut off by Angelina.  
“Oh, it couldn’t have been me. But it’s still a Gryffindor!”  
“No, I was just saying-”  
“You’ll be able to pay back Diggory for beating us in that Quidditch match!” Katie Bell shrieked.  
“Come on, we’ve got food, you can have some-” Someone shouted from the crowd.

Either nobody heard or listened to Harry’s protests, nobody cared that Harry didn’t want to celebrate. Lee Jordan even insisted on draping some Gryffindor banner around him like a cape, much to Harry’s dismay. He made to push through to the staircase leading to the dormitories, but the crowd seemed to lock in place, forcing Harry to relent. Everyone wanted to know how he managed to get the Goblet to pick him.  
“I told you, I didn’t do it! I’ve no idea how it happened!” He tried to say, but it was like trying to talk to a brick-wall; nobody seemed to be listening.

When they weren’t attempting to interrogate him, Harry was forced to eat plate upon plate of party food until he felt extremely full. Finally, he snapped.

“I’m tired!” He half screamed. “No George, I mean it! I’m going to bed!”  
Pushing past the Creevey brothers who were offering yet more food, and knocking over several people, Harry finally made it to the staircase and stormed up to his dormitory. Ron and Hermione weren’t down in the common room, but hopefully, they were up here. Forcing down the sick he could feel prickling at the back of his throat, Harry opened the door and walked inside.

 

Thankfully, Ron was lying on his bed, alone too. He was fully dressed and obviously not asleep so Harry began to talk.  
“Where’ve you been? I’ve just had to go through-”  
“Congratulations.” Ron snarled, his face wearing an odd kind of grimace.  
“What d’you mean?” Harry said, fumbling to remove the Gryffindor banner from around him.  
“Well, nobody else managed to get across the age line,” Ron began, “Not even Fred and George. Was it the invisibility cloak?”  
“You know full well that the cloak wouldn’t have worked,” Harry said slowly.  
Ron frowned.

“Well the cloak would’ve covered both of us, so you could have taken me over too. You found another way then.” He said with a hollow tone.  
“Are you honestly going to be like this? I didn’t do put my name in the Goblet!”  
“Well, you certainly seem to be enjoying it!” Ron bellowed, “Parading around the common room like it’s a party!   
“Enjoying it? It's been horrible!” Harry spluttered.  
“Don’t lie! I know you just love this! You could’ve helped me submit my name too but oh no, poor Ron Weasley is far too ordinary for that!”  
Harry just stared,  
“And we all know Dumbledore’s letting you enter! Violet told us and the Fat Lady everything!”  
“Ron I didn’t do it! You know I wouldn’t-”  
“Don’t bloody lie! You said this morning you would’ve done it at night so nobody noticed! I’m not stupid, you know.”

Harry was stunned. Ron was supposed to be his best friend, and they relied on each other so often. This was certainly not what he expected. He didn’t want to talk, as he feared he was going

“What, you’re not going to explain at all? Get out of my sight!” Ron shouted finally.

And Harry did. He stormed out, but instead of going down the stairs he half-ran into the bathroom and locked himself in one of the cubicles.  
This was stupid; not even his best friend believed him. Hermione wouldn't be like this would she? Was he about to lose all of his friends?  
It wasn't his fault though… Or was it? He had unwittingly made Ron think he entered himself by saying he'd have entered at night so nobody saw. This was his fault.

Leaning against the wall of the cubicle Harry listened to his housemates walk up the stairs, chatting happily. Ron was silent. He stood motionless until the sound of talking stopped and he was left in silence.

He began to feel very sick. A combination of the thought of losing his friends and after eating so much in one night Harry was bound to feel like this. It felt horrible, and not just because of the burning sensation at the back of his throat; surely eating this much would cause him to gain weight. That was bad. How would he be able to handle the Tournament if he was overweight?

He could just get rid of the food. Just one time, nobody would know.

Without thinking much more about it, Harry bent over the toilet and forced his fingers down his throat.

***

Harry woke up aching all over. Why was he so cold? He opened his eyes and looked around.

He was still in the toilet cubicle, his glasses on the floor nearby. Hardly believing he slept here, Harry stood up carefully. Then he smelled it, a horrible mix of bile and old food swept over him. He flushed the toilet, watching the unsightly mixture of party food swirl away, but it left behind a thin, shiny layer on the water. After a few more flushes it remained so he resorted to putting a load of tissue paper in there to hide it. Nobody had to know about it, and Harry was sure that he wasn’t going to do it again anyway.

When he walked into the dormitory Ron had left already, and he heard Neville leaving the room. Obviously, it was later than he thought.  
Harry dressed hastily but as he left the dormitory didn't really want to go to the Great Hall. Facing the rest of the school didn't seem like a good idea, maybe a walk would cheer him up. 

 

Hermione was nowhere to be seen so far, which didn't bode well Harry thought as he wandered alone by the edge of the forest. He saw three options; either she didn't want to take a side, she was on Ron's side, or simply hadn't been able to talk to him yet. Hopefully, it was the latter, losing Ron was one thing but losing Hermione too would probably send him over the edge before the tournament even began.

As he passed the Beauxbatons carriage Harry wondered why Fleur Delacour had been so angry last night, because it wasn't like he offered any competition. Quidditch was all Harry thought he was really decent at, and being way too young for the tournament didn't help. 

How were the rest of the school going to react?  
Of course, his own house, while not really listening to him, was at least on his side mostly but the others could be completely opposite to them. The Slytherins were going to be terrible, but he had endured them in the past so surely he could handle it this time, right?

Harry stopped as he approached Hagrid's front door. Visiting Hagrid would help take his mind off of things, he decided and knocked on his door.

Fang began to bark loudly and scratch at the door.  
“I'm comin’, wait a couple'a seconds,” said Hagrid from inside.

After a moment, the door burst open, and Harry slipped inside. Fang calmed down once he realised who was there; he was used to Harry after seeing him so many times.

“Harry! How’ve yeh been?” Hagrid asked jovially.  
“I’m… I’m alright I guess.” Harry replied though he could tell Hagrid didn’t believe him.  
“So. Triwizard Champion, eh? Everything seems ter happen ter you!”  
“I guess…” Harry mumbled, “I wish I could just have a normal year for once, you know?”  
Hagrid gave him a sympathetic nod.  
“Well, you’ll be wantin’ some tea then?”  
“Yeah, thanks Hagrid.”

Of course, Hagrid would want to know all about being entered into the Triwizard Tournament, Harry was hoping to avoid this but it seemed that wasn’t likely. He watched Hagrid bustle around looking for some mugs to use.

“Where’re Ron and Hermione?” Hagrid asked, sounding slightly worried.  
“I don’t know where Hermione is.” Harry didn’t want to mention Ron.  
“Knowin’ her she’s probably in the library. She’s doin’ alright?”  
“Yeah. Hermione is fine.”  
“And Ron?”

Harry fell silent, and Hagrid didn’t push the matter any further. They both spent the day talking about various subjects, avoiding the Tournament at Harry’s request.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!
> 
> First of all, thanks for 200 hits! I didn't expect that to happen in just a week.  
> Secondly, I know I said I would divert from the canon more in this chapter, but the argument with Ron was something I felt I needed to include.  
> Also, just in case you were wondering, we will see seeing more of Viktor in the next chapter or so.
> 
> Have a wonderful weekend!

**Author's Note:**

> Well, there you have it. This is my first fic, so there may be mistakes or errors so please point them out to me! I'm willing to improve my writing.  
> I hope you enjoyed it! I'll be posting the next one as soon as I can.
> 
> I've been wanting to write this for a while, as the pairing I want to write isn't very common and I want to add to it. I'm not 100% yet but if I manage to make this work, I might attempt a series.
> 
> But anyway, I hope you have a lovely day!


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